


Midgar’s Ass

by annella



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Car Sex, M/M, Minor Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII), rufus shinra’s wide ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annella/pseuds/annella
Summary: Tseng knows this is a bad idea, but he can’t turn down Rufus and his perky ass.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	Midgar’s Ass

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sorry, enjoy some trashy fun inspired by the way everyone on twitter talks about Rufus Shinra’s dump truck ass.

“This is a bad idea,” Tseng hissed, even as he helped Rufus with his belts. Rufus let out a shaky laugh, his fingers tangling with Tseng’s on the buckles, and finally, between the two of them, they managed to get Rufus’ coat and shirt off and his pants down below his ass. Tseng splayed his hands across Rufus’ bare buttocks, admiring the smooth roundness of them, and somehow managed to refrain from making a comment about the wide load currently perched on his lap. It was a shame Rufus always wore that coat, almost floor length with all the extra belts sewn on, because his lover had the perkiest, roundest ass Tseng had ever seen.

“Hurry up, we don’t have long before we get back,” Rufus huffed, craning his neck back to glare at Tseng. He shuffled backwards, pressing his ass against Tseng’s cock, rigid and straining in his pants, and Tseng drew in a sharp breath when Rufus let out a soft groan.

“Keep it down,” he said softly, his gaze flicking to the tinted glass privacy screen separating them from Reno and Rude in the front of the car. The screen was almost entirely opaque, but it didn’t drown out  _ all _ sound, and Tseng didn’t particularly want his subordinates to hear the way Rufus moaned when he was riding Tseng’s dick. He could hear the dull thud of a bassline in the music Reno and Rude always put on in the car, and he hoped it was loud enough to drown out any inadvertent shouts from Rufus.

Rufus didn’t answer him, instead tossing a small tube of lube back to him, and Tseng took a deep breath, popping it open and slicking his fingers up. There was a moan from Rufus, his hands splayed flat against the glass in front of him, his head hanging low as Tseng slid two fingers into him. His breathing quickened as Tseng slowly fucked him with his fingers, short gasps escaping his clenched teeth when Tseng found his prostate and pressed against it.

“God, I just—hurry the fuck _ up, _ Tseng.” Rufus shoved a fist into his mouth and bit down on his knuckles to muffle his gasps. Tseng ignored his plea as he concentrated on rubbing his prostate until Rufus was trembling, sweating, his hips jerking and his ass shaking against Tseng’s body. God, but he loved Rufus’ ass, loved the pale skin almost shining in the dimness of the car, loved the way Rufus squirmed whenever Tseng was buried balls deep in him. Much as he enjoyed having Rufus facing him when they fucked, Tseng found it hard to turn down having his lover in this position so he could admire his rear end.

Come to think of it, Tseng was glad Rufus wore such a long coat, disguising what Tseng considered to be his best asset. He didn’t particularly want the paparazzi taking photos of his lover’s behind all the time, which would no doubt occur if Rufus ever wore tight pants out in public without his coat concealing him.

Rufus grunted, shifting back against Tseng’s fingers, his hand squeaking a little against the glass screen.

“Take your hand off that,” Tseng instructed quietly. “I do  _ not _ want to be having awkward conversations with Reno and Rude later.”

Rufus nodded, moaning past the fist in his mouth with each breath, and put his hand on his knee, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly as Tseng continued fucking him. He was getting desperate himself, his cock almost painful in his pants, and he slipped his other hand around to take hold of Rufus’ dick, thick and hard and leaking precome.

“No,” Rufus moaned, “I’m too close.” Despite his words, he thrust up into Tseng’s hand, then back against his fingers, his body rocking desperately.

Tseng gritted his teeth and slid his fingers out of Rufus’ ass, ignoring his protests. He fumbled with his belt, ripping it open and frantically unzipping his pants, breathing a sigh of relief when his erection was freed from its confines. He stroked himself once, twice, with his slicked-up hand, and rubbed the head against Rufus’ ass.

This was without a doubt the best view in Midgar: the sight of his cock sliding against Rufus’ ass (or, as Tseng thought of it in his wilder moments,  _ Midgar’s ass) _ and the slow, gradual glide into Rufus’ body. He moaned despite himself, momentarily irritated that his shirt tails were getting in the way of the view, and once he was fully seated, he tore his shirt open, pushing it aside so he could fully enjoy the sight.

Tseng worried at his lip, trying desperately not to moan, his hands tight on Rufus’ hips holding him steady as that tight, slick heat surrounded him. Sweat beaded on his brow as he held himself still, fighting the immediate urge to buck his hips and fuck up into Rufus. Rufus, whose bare back was gleaming with perspiration, his head still hanging forward, pressed against the privacy screen as he bit down on his fist to keep himself quiet.

“Tseng,” Rufus breathed, rocking back and forth on his lap, “fucking move before I  _ scream.” _

The car slowed down and stopped, and Tseng had a horrific mental image of Reno or Rude helpfully opening the door to let Rufus out, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the car started up again. He wasn’t sure where they were, more interested in the sight of Rufus’ ass right in front of him, but by the smooth motion of the car as it picked up speed, he figured they were now on the Midgar Expressway. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the Shinra Tower; he had to hurry this up. 

Tseng leaned forward, resting his forehead against Rufus’ back, kissing the damp skin, tasting salt sweat as he thrust up into that plush ass. He clutched at Rufus’ buttocks, his fingers digging into the soft skin, and Rufus grunted as they managed to establish a rhythm, Tseng’s cock rubbing against Rufus’ prostate, forcing quiet whines out of his mouth. 

The air in the back of the car was rapidly becoming humid and close, their frantic breathing misting up the windows and causing beads of condensation form on the privacy screen. Despite their best efforts, they were both moaning continuously, each thrust forcing another grunt out of them, and Tseng’s head spun with heated lust hearing those low, throaty growls emanating from Rufus’ chest.

“Close, I’m close,” Rufus gasped, and Tseng reached around in front of him, taking hold of his cock again, stroking firmly and smearing slick precome all over the head and shaft to ease the way. Rufus’ back arched, his head falling back, and both hands slammed against the privacy screen with a loud  _ smack _ before sliding down, squeaking loudly against the condensation as he came into Tseng’s hand with a loud moan.

“Ah, fuck,” Tseng cursed as Rufus’ ass tightened around him, and the desire burning in his groin flared up in a sudden volcano of lust. Waves of heat crashed over him and he clenched his hands tight on Rufus’ hips as he thrust up once more, twice, before his orgasm overtook him. He was unable to stifle his cries, and Rufus’ name slipped past his lips, frantic and desperate as he spent himself in Rufus’ ass.

There was silence in the back of the car, broken only by the sounds of panting, and in the sudden quiet, Tseng gently kissed Rufus’ back and sighed in contentment.

Rufus leaned back, resting against Tseng’s chest, and he turned his head to catch Tseng’s mouth in a soft kiss. “Love you,” he murmured.

“Hmm,” Tseng hummed into Rufus’ mouth. “Love your wide ass.” He gave the body part in question a pat.

“Fuck  _ you.” _

  
  
“Are they done, do you think?” Reno asked, a minute or so after they’d heard Rufus’ hands slam against the glass screen behind them and the sound of Tseng shouting Rufus’ name. Reno and Rude were not stupid; they knew what was going on with their boss and the VP, and were smart—and polite—enough to turn the music up whenever Tseng and Rufus were alone in the back of the car.

“Seems so,” Rude replied, staring straight ahead, his hands clenched tight on his legs. Reno shifted in his seat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. It wouldn't do to crash the car while both of his superiors were in a compromising position. Tseng would never forgive him.

“That was something.” Reno squirmed again, his cock stiff in his pants from the knowledge of what had been going on only a few feet behind him, not to mention the sounds. The stifled groans, the muffled grunts, the rocking of the car as he drove it along the expressway had made him unbelievably horny.

“Yup,” Rude said. Reno glanced at his partner, surprised to find him so unaffected, but when his gaze dropped to Rude’s groin, he was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one with a problem in his pants.

“So, Rude, have you ever—” he started.

“Nope,” Rude interrupted. “We’re waiting until you are  _ not _ driving the VP back to the office.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Reno grumbled. “I sucked you off the last time we were up in the chopper.”

“Still no.”

Reno sighed. At least they were almost back; he’d give the horny pair in the back a few minutes to put themselves back together once they’d parked the car, and then he was going to drag Rude somewhere private.

One day he was going to convince that man of the perks of road head, and Reno could die happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a twitter where I post a lot about the Turks and Rufus: sherribon


End file.
